LifePundit

A Pressure Washer with a First Aid Kit

The Congaree Swamp National Monument is about 15 minutes away from my house. Or at least it used to be. After all this rain, I'm thinking the swamp has expanded its borders. Welcome to my little home in the swamp.

Right now I see out of my office windows through a layer of green. Yes, green. We have algae -- not just mildew, but algae -- growing on our north-facing windows. My office is on the second floor and there's a steeply pitched roof under my windows. Ever since I broke my foot while watering a plant while standing on flat ground, I have quit climbing on roofs. But I almost can't work for looking at the world through algae-tinted glasses.

So, I'm looking for a pressure washer. I want one strong enough to take the mildew, algae and crud off of the house, but not so strong that it can hurt me. A friend of mine cut her leg to the bone with a pressure washer. I don't want anything that will wash off skin and muscle, roof shingles or gouge out wood. This same friend has a kinder, gentler pressure washer that even her children can use. I'd like such a thing.

As usual, I'm starting my research by reading the reviews on Amazon. I was just about sold on one of their very popular models when I noticed that one of the things that Amazon recommended that you purchase along with that item was a giant, industrial-strength first aid kit.

Yes, they recommended the washer, a length of extension hose and a monster first-aid kit. 

Maybe a ladder and a bottle of Windex would be safer. Or curtains.

The Treadmill Desk

Here's my new desk. It's the brownish-tannish board clamped down on the arms of my Christmas present from Paul (I asked for it: one should not receive a piece of exercise equipment unless one asks for it). He really struggled building this desk. I can write with no trouble at 2 mph, but it's difficult to use the mouse because my hand is moving. For a while I was having trouble getting a little bit seasick while I walk because apparently there's a little bit of waddle thrown in with the walk. If you notice on the left wall there's a small calendar there. I get a gold star for every day I walk. It's called an Honesty Calendar, and I've found I'll do anything for a gold star. No, rather, I'll do anything to have a calendar filled with gold stars and no voids. Or few voids.

Here's a better photo of the desk part. The colored fabric (blue) covering the clamps so as not to scratch the treadmill arms is VetWrap (also called CoFlex), which is used to bandage horses. You can't very well use sticky tape on a hairy leg. The desk can be removed so other people can use the treadmill. I find that I while I can write creatively and sometimes answer e-mails and talk on the phone on the treadmill, I'm not so good at blogging, so blogging has been light.
I'll try to add that to my treadmilling skills, but forgive me in advance for the typos. Can't walk, chew gum and spell right at the same time.

I feel better and I'm getting a lot of writing done. But the poor dog isn't getting to go on as many walks. Better go take him now before it gets down to 10 degrees or whatever awful thing it's supposed to do tonight. He and Tiger get to sleep inside. Izzie, the indoor cat, won't like that. Ah me. It's kind of like the Middle East, only I'm in charge and I say that the dog and outdoor cat get to stay. So there.

Off to walk outdoors. What a concept!

Is it Procrastination or Preparation?

It's good to be missed. Thank you, Nancy. What am I doing? Procrastinating! And I've found a better way to procrastinate than blogging: cleaning up and making plans for 2009.

Sort of like planning your New Year's resolutions early, only without actually having to start them for a month.

I've also been driving. Soon I'll be a Teamster, just from hauling Lily around where she needs to go. Minimum of 60 miles per day. More than that if she actually goes anywhere other than school.

So what's going to be different in 2009?

I'm going to be walking while working. I've got a new treadmill and Paul is going to build me a desk (right Paul?) as soon as he's finished renovating his new office and moving in (scheduled for this weekend. The toilet is out of our den!). Right now I'm using a piece of pink Styrofoam for my treadmill desk but it's not very stable. Walking while working is supposed to improve your health, your sleep, burn calories and annoy the cat. A Mayo Clinic researcher says that you can lose 67 pounds a year simply by slowly walking while you work. I don't want to lose 67 pounds (but I might after Christmas candy). To see a video about the concept, click here.

I'm going to do JaNoWriMo. I didn't "win" NaNoWriMo, but was very pleased with how much more I wrote so I've signed up for a similar but less technically spectacular (the web site, I mean) event where you do the same thing: write 50,000 words in a month, only the month is January. I'm going to write a romance that you will never, ever see with my name on it. Frissons everywhere!

Then there are other goals that I'd like to keep to myself. Such as not seeing my MiL at all in 2009.

How about you?

I Want a Dumpster for Christmas

This year for Christmas, I want the anti-gift. I want a dumpster.

I asked for a dumpster once before. Paul said they are too expensive. Paul is frugal. I don't get diamonds or dumpsters.

I'm doing my big, end-of-year Dung Shui, and Everything Must Go. This feels very therapeutic, especially with so many misbehaving people in my life. I can't declutter people from my life, but I can declutter stuff.

Lily started it. She wants to repaint her room and get rid of all the animal prints and other things she considers childish. She's purged everything and most of it has gone to Goodwill. I got in the spirit of things and sent some fancy evening dresses I no longer have anywhere to wear. The lady at Goodwill was thrilled and said that she would put them out immediately because there were girls looking for party clothes.

And I'm not making this up -- as soon as I got home I received an invitation to a black tie dance. if you want to get invited to a party, get rid of your party clothes.

Still, I'm going to keep getting rid of stuff that isn't useful or beautiful. And though I don't quite know what I will wear to that dance, I hope those girls have a great time in my evening dresses. Something will turn up for me (it's probably forgotten in the back of a closet) and I'm thrilled that things I wasn't using (I thought) will bring others joy.

I guess there's a reason it's called Goodwill.

Our New Heat Pump

UPDATE: 5:00 p.m.

The heat pump is so loud it sounds like somebody is in the shower. What's more, the air coming out of the vents is cold and the thermostat says that the emergency heat strip is on. The indoor temp continues to drop. I have turned the whole mess off. It's probably using the emergency heat strip to warm the great outdoors.

ORIGINAL POST:

I am trying to right a book and I guess I should move. We're having a new heat pump installed and the closet where it lives is in the room next to where I'm attempting to work. There are three service people here and I'm not sure they've ever done this before.

These folks are not inspiring confidence. They just set off our smoke alarm using a torch to.... burn up our new heat pump. I don't know. The alarm is loud and I'm ignoring it.

Here's what I've overheard in the last few minutes:

"It's the inside of the cabinet that's caught on fire."

"I've never seen one of these things before. Where does it go?"

"Don't use the torch too close there. You're melting the Teflon."

"It's got three of these and one of those. That don't match what I need to connect."

Now they just told me that I must have a very sensitive smoke alarm because they didn't really burn up very much. Just some insulation. I mentioned that perhaps the insulation was a good thing for the heat pump to have, and they assured me that it was just "glazed over."

That makes two of us.

I want heat. Not fire.

"You Would Be Totally Irresponsible to Lend Me That Much Money!"

Fourteen years ago Paul and I applied for a loan to build and pay for our current house. After submitting all our financial information, which was not so impressive, the mortgage lender came back with an astronomical figure for how much money they were willing to lend us.

Paul was astounded. He looked the banker in the eye and said with complete sincerity, "You would be totally irresponsible to lend me that much money."

Fortunately, we knew what was good for us and borrowed what we could afford, not what they were willing to lend us.

Don't people know that borrowed money isn't free, and that you have to pay it back? And now we're supposed to pay $700 billion for the people who borrowed more than they could afford?

I know that's an oversimplification, but it's a symptom of a society where politicians seek and retain power by giving away what isn't theirs -- and leaving the rest of us to pay for it.

More later.

Why I Have a Toilet and Three Sinks in My Den

(Photo: Not mine but is giving me some ideas.)

I haven't been posting lately because I've been too busy going into debt. Paul's accountant said he needed to quit paying rent and get his own office building, and we closed on his new office building on Friday.

I think I signed a paper saying that they (the bank) could come after me for the money even if I'm dead. There was lots of fine print and none of it warmed my heart. I signed. Then I fainted.

I love the building, a little 1964- built box that backs up to the land where we used to pasture our horses. I have so many happy memories right over the back fence, which is now a new housing development. On the other side of the street is a fancy funeral home.

Of course, Paul, who never pays full price for anything, has been accumulating building materials. When we were in St. Martin, he spent half of the vacation holding his laptop over our balcony railing to pick up an Internet signal so he could bid on toilets and sinks on e-bay.

Right now I have a toilet in my den, along with two sinks. And lots of stained fine wood that will be used for baseboard and probably my coffin. He also bought a pile of doors and windows from a building supply place that went under. He bought all this before he bought the building. If the sale had fallen through, I guess it would be my coffin. Or his.

I put my foot down when toilets two and three arrived. They're outside. I think I may put one on each side of the front door and plant geraniums in them.

Do you have any idea what having your house turned into a warehouse for building materials can do to your brain, especially if you work from home? There is marble in the living room. Lumber in the yard. And every day, some plumbing part arrives from somebody on e-bay.

One toilet arrived broken. It had to be returned in its original box. It's replacement arrived with a broken lid. That had to go back in the original box. The UPS guy thinks I must have the hots for him. I might if he brought me something more than broken toilets.

I'm Back

I should have told you I'd be silent for a while because I was going on vacation. Actually, what I usually do is compose my posts in advance and let them roll out while I'm gone. Between the lightning damage, work deadlines and old people who keep falling (but are okay), I barely got myself packed and out of here.

I unplugged absolutely everything before I left so no lightning damage. The only adventure was that the sheriff's department called Saintly Brother to tell him that one of our doors was unlocked and he had to come over to check out things.

Bless the sheriff. Bless Saintly Brother. Saintly Brother said he didn't think the door had ever been locked....

We have seven exterior doors. This is what happens when you build your own house and the local building supply place lets you buy their display doors (gorgeous) for practically nothing. We have doors where we were supposed to have windows. Trouble is, we forget to lock them all. Oops!

We went to St. Maarten/St. Martin and had a wonderful, restful time.

The indoor cat can't get enough of me now. How she missed me! I love being loved.

I'll be posting photos and stories later. Paul ate curried goat. I think that is just wrong. We had goats as pets when I was little. You don't eat pets, though chevre and feta are sublime.

Paul's suitcase still hasn't arrived, we have no food in the house (other than cat food), I need to pick up the horses and I'll download photos, etc. later.

Travel is a great pleasure. So is getting home!

He Promised Me a Rose Garden

I've been buying myself flowers but that may end because I'll be cutting flowers out of my own yard. Roses! Paul has promised me this rose garden (the roses in the photo montage). He's going to plant the roses, put in a drip or soaker system, and then I get to do the rest. (Which I hope will be growing roses and not killing roses.) I used to grow roses before Lily was born. I was covered over in roses of all kinds, from antique roses with packed, curled faces (and heavenly aromas) to experimental roses I got to report on to tree roses to about 25 hybrid teas.

All you have to do to grow roses is start with good stock, plant them correctly and in full soon, water them regularly, spray once a week and feed them. I'm a little worried about the sunshine here -- so many trees (except in the pasture, and horses eat roses so that won't do).

I can smell them already. Will be reporting back.

Spring Break at Home

This is a photo of Grand Cayman's Sting Ray City. One day I'll post about that and use photos of my own. Incredible experience! And not one that we had on Spring Break 2008.

I'm back! In spite of my belief (not shared by others in my family) that I should be going somewhere for Spring Break, we stayed here. It was fantastic!

Monday: I should have been on the Norwegian Majesty. It would have been a relaxing day at sea. Instead, I finished a couple of freelance projects that shouldn't have spilled over into this week -- and went horseback riding with Lily. I realized that yes, it is okay to be at home and not work.

Tuesday: I should have been putting on my swimsuit and heading to the tenders to catch a ride to Grand Cayman, so far my favorite island (other than Maui, which is just too far). Instead, Lily and I are stripping horse stalls.

That means we are removing all the bedding and manure down to the ground. We even remove some of the ground. Saintly Brother's wife (who is fun rather than saintly) came over to get a truckload of manure. She helped. So did the horses. It wasn't a day spent on a sunny beach, but it was a day of improving  weather and wonderful company. And great accomplishment. I hurt all over. My soul is probably happier than if I had been lolling about on a beach.

Wednesday: I should be getting ready to go snorkeling in Cozumel. Instead, I'm putting on the same dirty jeans to go finish the stalls, including getting fresh bedding. And I haul Buddy and Lily out to a place in the country where they have a wonderful ride with an old friend. The day  gets prettier by the hour. I start getting ambitious about spring planting.  We begin re-organizing the tack room. Saintly Brother's wife comes back for another truckload of manure. So nice to make somebody so happy with, well, manure.

Thursday: I should be relaxing at sea. Probably taking a long walk on the Promenade Deck and watching the porpoises and the flying fish. Or even spotting a sea turtle. Instead, I'm completely lost on what to do about the tack room. We drag everything out in the yard, go to Lowe's to get some additional hooks and storage drawers, and I wonder if it is even possible to straighten out this mess. The weather is beautiful and says, "Plant tomatoes and flowers," but I resist. One thing at a time. To my shock, the tack room begins to take shape. There's still more in the yard than the room, but it's coming. Lily has to go to a piano thing and it's quite a shock to me that the whole family expects to eat supper. I feed them something. I should be deciding which restaurant I want to eat in on the ship. We watch "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." I'm exhausted and sleep really well.

Friday: I should be putting on my comfy walking shoes and getting ready for Key West. Instead, we really do finish up the tack room. More or less. Lily and I are quite happy. We keep going down to the tack room to look at how good it looks, and think of ways to make it better. The temperature hits 81 and we're reminded that summer's coming. We have lots of mother-daughter talks and I am in heaven.

Saturday: We should be coming home from the cruise. And the stalls and the tack room would still be a mess. Instead, I'm already home. But now I get my heart broken. Lily, my fun companion, vacation friend and dear daughter suggests, "Let's see if there are any good movies on."

"Great," I say. I love movies. I especially love to go to movies with her.

"And you can drop (friend's name) and me off there and pick us up later," she says. Not even realizing.

Yes, I'm lucky. I had a week with my newly teenaged daughter and we had a great time and got a lot done. Now, she's just doing her job. She's growing up. That's a blessing, too, though perhaps not one I'm ready for.